


Plagued

by mrhiddles



Category: Thor (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Thorki - Freeform, Tragedy, umm yeah brother feels and angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 03:00:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrhiddles/pseuds/mrhiddles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He takes sometimes. He takes too much. He doesn’t take enough</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plagued

  
_“The traitor is the plague.”_  
Marcus Tullius Cicero

\--

“You believe I’ve given you war,” he whispers into skin damp with the sweat of fear and conscience.

Thor shakes beneath his hands and Loki glories in the power of it.

“You’ve given me nothing, Loki. There is not a thing I desire from you. Not any longer.”

Loki’s hands tighten and force the air slowly from the pipe of Thor’s throat, drawing out each breath slow through the vents of his lungs. Tiny spider-like veins forcing blood and perishing for the effort somewhere just behind the cage of his ribs.

Loki feels Thor’s breath ghost over his knuckles and he shivers.

“You are a liar,” Loki breathes, teeth scraping his jaw.

Thor closes his eyes and says, “No.”

\--

Once, centuries ago, Thor’s vengeance comes in the form of shoving Loki to the floor with a hand heavy on the spread of his lower back, fingers deep and dry inside him. Loki spits into the furs and heaves such sounds as to resemble sobs. The pain. The pain of it all.

Thor is still splattered with gore and dirt and the steel of his tossed shield and blade still ring in Loki’s ears as Thor presses deeper still, burning him with only a touch.

Thor rips eager teeth into his shoulder, and leaves a mark bloodied and bruised for weeks.

Thor is the one who stitches it shut that night.

\--

There had been a month where Loki did not remember who he was. Some accursed action done within shadow while Loki had been engaged in combat elsewhere. Thor eventually remedied this with the help of Stark, the mortal.

But it is the in between that bothers him now. The time he did not know who he was. The time he lived as a careless mortal.

Thor kissed him often then, and he still remembers what it felt like to wake pressed close and warm in the embrace of his brother.

A feeling he would banish entirely from the cosmos if he could.

\--

Now, Loki is older. Thor is too. Their hair has faded and Loki feels the age of millennia drift between his fingers as he passes ancient Gungnir between them. He gazes out upon the world, upon Thor’s mock worthy prison from the very seat he’d grown up admiring, reviling, Odin having sat in.

He takes sometimes. He takes too much. He doesn’t take enough. Thor cannot do a thing, and this pleases Loki enough to spark a bit of mischief into his withered smile. Too long has he been working at the worth of evil and not the fun of tricks and chaos.

Evil, as so many would deem it, is resolute, absolute. He misses chaos.

Loki misses Thor.

\--

“I’ve given you leave of bond. What say you of this?” Loki asks, throat grasped tight in a parallel of years before. Before, when Thor had given up.

Loki feels Thor’s tongue hot against his teeth, his teeth a sting against his lips, and then he is bleeding. And there is pain.

Thunder booms in the sky and then they are swallowed in light.


End file.
